


The Dreamer and the Raven

by viole



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV), Maleficent (2014), Sleeping Beauty (1959)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-14
Updated: 2018-02-15
Packaged: 2018-02-17 09:04:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 3,544
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2304182
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/viole/pseuds/viole
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A young prince cursed with a spell that is set to kill him before he turns sixteen.<br/>A fierce sister and family fighting for his life.<br/>A wicked witch and a flock of helpful fairies.<br/>And an unexpected friend who might just turn around the course of destiny.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Witch

**Author's Note:**

> Crossover epic/fairytale fanfic with many character appearances from Game of Thrones, throughout illustrated on fully colored panels that are meant to look like screenshots from an animated movie.  
> I'm adding character names and pairings to the disclaimer as I go, so that not too much is given away at the beginning about the roles. ^^  
> It will be also uploaded on my Tumblr: http://marauders-in-pajamas.tumblr.com (this is where the panels will more likely be uploaded first)  
> If you want to read it with a German translation, go here: http://animexx.onlinewelten.com/doujinshi/zeichner/327527/61248/
> 
> Enjoy!

  


  


  


  


  


  


  


  


  


  


  


  


  


  


  


  


  


  


  


  


  


  


  


  


___________________________ 

The pictures are posted on Tumblr and linked here. Recently some of them seems to be moved to other servers.  
You should be still able to read the text here, but if there is a picture missing, just let me know and I'll fix it. =3


	2. The Blessings of the Fairies

  


  


  


  


  


  


  


  


  


  


  


  


  


  


  


  


  


  


  


  


  


  


  


  


  


  


  


  


  


  


  


  


  


  


  


  


  


  


  


  


  


  



	3. The Wings

  


  


  


  


  


  


  


  


  


  


  


  


  


  


  


  


  


  


  


  


  



	4. The Dreamer

  


  


  


  


  


  


  


  


  


  


  


  


  


  


  


  


  


  


  


  


  


  


  


  


  


  


  


  


  


  


  


  


  


  


  


  


  


  


  


  


  



	5. The Training

  


  


  


  


  


  


  


  


  


  


  


  


  


  


  


  


  


  


  


  


  


  


  


  


  


  


  


  


_______________________________________________________________________

King Renly

Jojen is sitting on the ground, singing quietly and playing.  
  
Next to them Jaqen waits impatiently as well. Jojen’s mentor has agreed to lend some of his seer training time for the meeting with the king.  
Bran is certain Jaqen knows everything about him, his reasons, knows he is desperately trying to help his friend. He is the only other one in the castle who is aware Bran exists, and like Jojen, he never asks questions either. There has to be a reason why he trusts Bran, why those eyes who could stare a man to death look gently upon him.  
  
"There you are."  
  
The fairy smiles and hugs Bran, then pats Jojen's head. "Are you the prince? Bran has told me a lot about you."  
  
"You are very pretty." Jojen answers. Sansa beams in delight.  
  
"Oh my. You have grown so much! How could you become any more adorable?"  
  
She leads them to the entrance of the magical realm, chatting happily all the while, encouraging them to talk about any troubles with the king. The path is a long, dark flight of stairs, the trodded earth full of large roots. There is only dim light coming from above.  
  
Bran has pictured the magical realm as a place high above, surrounded by clouds and light. At their destination however, the fairy kingdom is eerie and clandestine instead. The sky and ground are a hazy grey and the trees seem to grow everywhere, gleaming green and blue like lightning with delicate twigs.  
  
The king is sprawled on a throne made of wood branches, twirled and woven with roots. He does not have wings like the other fairies. Instead, he has the back legs and hooves of a stag, and a pair of antlers on his head. Under the fluorescent twilight on the throne he might have been frightening, were it not for his antlers being decorated with little yellow roses.  
  
"Welcome, boys."  
  
Jojen smiles back. Though considerably younger, King Renly is dark haired and serene just like his father. They are likely to get along well.  
  
They sit down in front of him, Sansa and Jaqen at some distance from the throne. No one mentions a word about Jaqen, like he is invisible to the hosts. Even Sansa sitting right next to him, doesn’t at all seem to be be aware of him.  
  
"You must be prince Jojen. Very pleased to make your acquintance," the king says. "But who are you?"  
  
"I'm Bran." he answers, not having expected to introduce himself. "Sansa found me in the woods and told me I could bring Jojen here."  
  
"Just Bran?"  
  
"I'm a wolf."  
  
"A wolf? That sounds very exciting! Can you show me what you look like?"  
  
"I-I can't. I'm stuck like this until... for a while."  
  
King Renly seems to think. _Please don't tell Jojen I have to serve the same witch that cursed him,_ Bran chants silently.  
  
Of course he has tried to change his form by himself, and never succeeded. He isn’t even getting any better at it. He knows exactly how it feels, when the witch turns him, from raven to human, from wolf to raven. And he can’t do it. None of the books he reads when sneaking away to the library are helping. He seems to have no talent at all for magic.  
  
"Bran is magical," Jojen pipes up and takes his hand. "Just like me. Only that he gets to be a wolf. And sometimes a raven."  
  
"You are certainly both very interesting," King Renly says. "So you can see the future, Jojen?"  
  
"I have dreams that come true, yes. I try to warn everyone, but it doesn't work. Sometimes I see what is going to happen exactly, when and where. But most of the time, I see only weird images and we have to find out what they mean. If I guess wrong, I can't be of any help." He seems suddenly very lonely and miserable.  
  
"You want me to help you guess better?" asks the King.  
  
"Yes!" Jojen says, his head leaping up.  
  
For some reason, the King isn’t sharing his enthusiasm. He keeps looking at both of them, his scrubbled chin in his hand. Bran isn't sure himself if helping to guess the dreams more accurately is the reason they are here, but he is alright with anything that will make Jojen happy.  
  
"I can do that." the king finally says. "Jojen, I've also heard you've been feeling sick."  
  
"It's nothing." Jojen says. But he seems to notice at that moment that his sister is not present. His hand still in Bran's, he looks nervously over his shoulder. "My family looks after me."  
  
The king sighs. "Would you believe if I told you I was the one responsible for your wellbeing? How many times have I talked to my suboordinates about this!"  
  
His hand reaches to the ground, scruffing into something that is apparently not an arrangement of yellow flowers. A sleepy fairy raises its curly blonde head from lying at the base of the throne, and lazily spreads a pair of clear blue wings.  
  
"But do they listen? The first and most important thing you need to do is bless kids with good health," the king rants.  
  
"Well, we can't cover everything," the blonde fairy shrugs. "We choose what we're good at."  
  
"It's basic knowledge, Loras. Beauty this, bravery that! Best lover of all kingdoms! I'm not even starting with Shae. It's boring, she says, good health doesn't impress anyone. You're not there to impress people."  
  
"It didn't go as planned. We lost one wish because of Lysa."  
  
"You can't leave it to Gilly to do the important stuff at the very end." King Renly says. "See, Gilly is not just 'good at' anything really. She is great, because she sees what's the best that can be done."  
  
The king's hand rests on a blue orb, nestled inside a trunk. He stands up and lifts the trunk, carrying it over to Jojen, then sits in front of them, legs crossed.  
  
"I'm really sorry for this," the fairy king tells the boys. "Certainly I will train you, Jojen."  
  
"Thank you, King Renly."  
  
"Have you ever tried to have a vision while you are awake?"  
  
"No, I wouldn't want that."  
  
"I suppose it must hurt you a lot."  
  
"Well, uh..." Jojen looks up at Bran, who is more clueless than him. "A little, yes. But I can use the dreams to help people. That's what you do too, right? You too can see the future."  
  
"Oh, yes, I do," King Renly says. " I can already tell you are going to be a great king. Probably better than me, if that's possible. Helping people however, is a complex matter."  
  
"That's what Jaqen says too, sometimes." Jojen said, looking into the orb.  
  
The king nodded. "I take it he is a seer too, and I don't believe he suffers as much as you do."  
  
Jojen shrugs. His hand reaches out to disperse the fumes surrounding the orb.  
  
"He has more practice."  
  
"There are things than can get worse with practice," King Renly smiles. "Helping people is one of them. The more people you help, the more you think you can help. It's not true."  
  
"I don't understand."  
  
"See, that's what makes the curse of the witch so wicked. When she wanted to curse your sister, she just attacked her without thinking. She expected a helpless little girl, and threatened someone with a spindle who knows their way perfectly around sharp things. At your nameday, the witch had learned. She listened to what the other fairies blessed you with, and then she took advantage of your kindness, turned it against you. Your kindness is a perfect part of you, you're not even aware of ways to live differently. Jojen, you need to fight back."  
  
"But I'm not like my sister."  
  
"That only means you can't fight back like she did. But you can do it differently. You have to, if you are going to become king. You've accepted being a seer, and you believe that means accepting the curse. But the curse is not part of your nature. It's the same with Bran as well. Would you be friends with Bran, regardless of what he is?"  
  
"Of course I would!"  
  
Bran is terrified for a moment, but the king does not reveal his secret; and he doesn't quite understand why that question is asked. Unless it was meant for him. Because he knows Jojen's answer before he says it, he only doesn't believe. Jojen does not know who Bran is. He might think different, given a few years, he might judge the deal with the witch differently once he is not a child anymore.  
  
"Is there a time when you feel good about your dreams?"  
  
"When... when I can compare them with each other and see what they mean. And when I talk about them with Jaqen, and when I tell the Council about them."  
  
"Do you see that all of these things are what you choose to do? You are doing something with your visions. And more important: All these times you choose to share your visions with someone. You share your responsibility. It means you are not the only one responsible for helping the people in your kingdom. Your father is too, the Council as well, and Jaqen is responsible for helping you. All of those people are good at what they do. It is not the curse that makes you good or helpful. You choose to be good and helpful, with or without it. What belongs to you is the kindness in you, your love for your family, your friendship with Bran, your wish to become a good king. Now, if I told the crown prince and future king of Greywater that there is a little boy who is suffering somewhere in your land, wouldn't you do anything you could to help him?"  
  
"Yes. Who is he? I haven't seen him in my visions. How do I find him?"  
  
"Look no further, Jojen, that boy is you.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> End of Chapter 5 ^^ Only five more chapters to go! 
> 
> I wrote the first meetup with Fairy King Renly in prose form, and it turned out a bit longer than expected. ^^ 


	6. Fifteen

  


  


  


  


  


  


  


  


  


  


  


  


  


  


  


  


  


  


  


  


  


  


  


  


  


  


  


  


  


  


  


  


  



	7. The Thorns

  


  


  


  


  


  


  


  


  


  


  


  


  


  


  


  


  


  


  


  


  


  


  


  


  


  


  


  


  


  


  


  


  


  


  


  


  


  


  


  


  


  


  


  


  


  


  


______________

**Extra:**

When Sansa found him, he was lost in the plains towards the North, not caring to tend to his wounds, half mad with thirst.  


"I failed him." was the first thing he mumbled when she landed on the rocks, hurrying at his side.  


"Oh Bran," she said, grabbing his elbow as he stumbled forward. "You're hurt. And you should take the road."  


"I can't turn anymore," he replied. "I want to be a wolf again, but I can't turn."  


"Let me get you some water first."  


Bran showed no resistance as she took him to a pond and filled a tiny bottle from her belt with water that he drank absent-mindedly. Then she took off his cape that was almost torn to pieces and started cleaning the blood from his hands. His body was still scattered with dark feathers that clung to his clothes, and even some stuck on the skin that looked like remains of an unfinished, careless transformation.  


"We heard what happened," she said. "we sent a lot of fairies out to look for you."  


"Did anyone get through?"  


"No. King Renly tried himself. Even he can't do much against a revengeful spell such as this."  


"It was my betrayal who made her angry."  


"Bran, you kept her off the prince for so many years. Who knows what she would have done without you?" Sansa hugged him and stroke his hair. "Jojen will be... There will be a way to help him. But you need to get better."  


"Do you know the castle? Where she sent my family?"  


"We'll find it together."

***

Jon was the first to smell someone was on their way to the castle.  


It felt pitiful, his once strong senses being reduced to the mere ability to catch some capricious whiffs in the air, quickly vanishing and returning again. The only consolation was that his family members were going through the same. The people in Winterfell were kind to the pack of once-wolves, and from what they heard, they could still catch scents better than normal humans.  


Most of the time however, only pure intuition would substitute for the weakened senses. Jon felt it in the pit of his stomach that someone was close, someone he knew, and he resisted running around in a circle chasing his absent tail. He just stood there, concentrating as much as he could and almost giving himself a faint from breathing heavily. 

Robb and his mother stumbled into the yard. Catelyn was carrying Rickon who held up his much too short nose in the air too. Maybe just mimicking them. Or not.  


"Did you get it too?" Robb asked. "It's not Arya returning, is it?"  


"I think..." Jon begun.  


Ned walked slowly down the stairs. Just then, Theon walked out of a door, halting when he saw them assembled like that, then trying to act like it was mere coincidence.  


"Ned, is it possible?" Catelyn started, her voice trembling. "That witch who came after us... Did she do something to our son too? Did she know where he has been all these years?"  


"I'm going to have a look." Robb said. "Stay here."  


He took off. Jon nodded, then took Rickon from Catelyn, who was wrapped into a hug by her husband, both unable to move from the spot.  


Theon just shrugged and waited. 

***

Sansa felt how Bran straightened up when they approached the castle. Then he sighed, and a smile lightened up his broken face.  


"It's my brother," he told her. She still held him by the shoulders as they walked, Bran's numbness leaving him with every step, and anxiety getting a hold of her. She wondered if this was the time for her to leave.  


"That's good," she said, but it felt forced. She wished she had still her cape, to hide her wings. But they had torn his cape into bandages, and Bran was wearing hers instead.  


Soon a young man came into view, running increasingly fast towards them.  


"Don't worry," Bran squeezed her hand. "They're nice."  


He was distracted of course, and had other things on his mind, but Sansa would have liked some more confirmation on that. After all, he hadn't seen them for years. They had undergone a sudden attack, a painful transformation and had to live forever with the results. And when they would ask why Bran hadn't been able to return to them before... What would they say when they heard the whole story? Behind all the bad things stood a fairy. And now a fairy was bringing Bran home.  


She could understand his pain suddenly better now, the years of loneliness by the witches' side, being weak and powerless, the sheer luck of having been accepted by Prince Jojen as his friend, the agonizing doubt whether he could have done more to help. As he returned home, he might eventually realize he had done his best; but who would tell Sansa if she had too?  


"Robb!" Bran said when he finally was smothered into the welcoming arms of his brother, a very handsome young man sobbing shamelessly into his shoulder. "I'm alright, I'm alright! Yeah, I'm human too. You get used to it." Robb was asking nothing, but somehow Bran knew what to tell him. "Is everyone with you?"  


"Yes!" Robb beamed back at him. "They smelled you too, not like we could smell before, but everyone is waiting for you, I can't wait to show you off. Oh thank the gods you came back. Where have you been? Why are you hurt? Don't worry, we'll take care of you. Just look at you. My baby brother is a man!"  


Bran chuckled. "Is everyone well?"  


"Yes," Robb nodded and kissed his head. "Arya's not here though. As soon as she turned, she made plans to leave. She said she'd always wanted to become a swordfighter and go on a big adventure. And this was her chance."  


"She's as bad as I remember then?"  


"Much much worse!" Robb laughed, rocking his shoulders from side to side.  


Then both seemed to notice Sansa, who had politely backed off and had her wings folded into the smallest and thinnest shape she could.  


"Robb, this is Sansa," Bran said. "She accompanied me and helped me find you. Helped me all along in truth, since I was a little boy."  


"Please join us for the welcome feast we are going to have for Bran," Robb said, turning to her, face shining with tears, looking insanely happy. "And stay as long as you wish."  


Sansa blushed and fiddled with her sleeves.  


"I ... thank you, but maybe I would best leave," she muttered, only interrupted by Bran opening his mouth in confusion. "Our kind doesn't have the best reputation right now, and you all have been though a lot, you should have all the time in the world for each other, and not have to be in the presence of a f... fairy."  


Robb let go of Bran and took both Sansa's hands.  


"Lady Sansa," he said, beaming. "do you think we care about that, much less over the word of my little brother? You kept him company and cared for him, and made sure he came home safe. I consider you family now."  


"You heard him," Bran took her arm again. She was suddenly aware of how much he had grown.  


"And as I mentioned," Robb grinned. "We happen to be short of a sister at home. Frankly, I don't think you're going anywhere."  


"Don't scare her, Robb." Bran smiled, always careful and worrisome, even in the middle of his joyful arrival.  


"What? It's true!"  


Sansa still held onto Bran as they walked towards the entrance of Winterfell castle. Though she was the one now being supported by him, not the other way around.

 

**End of Chapter 7!**


	8. Intermezzo

  


  


  


  


  


  


  


  


  


  


  


  


  



	9. Winter

  


  


  


  


  


  


  


  


  


  


  


  


  


  


  


  


  


  


  


  


  


  


  


  


  


  


  


  


::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

  


_Extra chapter:_  


###### The final night

 

The wall of thorns stood tall as it had months ago. You could hardly tell where the blackened hollow had been, where Prince Oberyn had drenched the wood with wildfire. It had quickly grown back, so quickly it had almost trapped him and his helpers inside the wall. They had wanted to cut the rest of the way through to the other side, but in the end had barely made it back.  
  
Night was falling and the campfires around Greywater Watch were lit. By now, no one was here because they hoped to be the prince's soulmate or gain royal favors. Everyone could see the struggles were hopeless. The remaining rescuers simply refused to give up, deciding to be here in any case an opportunity might present itself for them to help.  
  
"Is it tomorrow?" Brienne asked, as always the last one to return, wiping her forehead and putting the axe to the ground before sitting down.  
  
"He turns sixteen by midnight," Podrick said, hovering over the map of the whole terrain around the castle, pointing at the markings with the weakest spots and the progress of each rescuer. "Arya's people are only a third of the way through, and they needed weeks to get this far.  
  
"He will be rescued, the fairies said so," Oberyn moved a stone on the map, marked with a yellow sun. "If the new delivery arrives this evening, there might be another chance. Remember how easy it was to cut through the scorched thorns? And if we move quickly, they will not grow back. We place the wildfire in the biggest dent we have, and we could be there in time."  
  
"Do you have word from the supply group? They might be lost in the swamp again."  
  
"I can't do much about the swamp," Oberyn said. "The only people who can are inside that castle." He looked up at the wall. "I admit I hated the swamp too, at first, but this is a beautiful kingdom after all. And placed fantastically too, in strategical terms. Impossible to invade. It is a shame should it go down like this."  
  
The ground vibrated slightly. First everyone thought it was only a mere perception, or sign of exhaustion. Then it trembled another time. Some of the stones on the map fell to the side.  
  
"This isn't an earthquake," Podrick said.  
  
"No," Brienne stood up and took her sword as the ground shook once more. "No, this sounds like steps. My bet's on the witch. Podrick, fetch my armor."  
  
Oberyn gave some similar orders to his servants.  
  
Arya was on her feet too, after having dozed off by the campfire, ashamed to rest properly while there was still time. But she never drew out her sword, or rushed to defense positions, as anyone around her did. The wolf girl stood staring in the darkness, in the direction the trembling came from, her eyes trying to compensate for what her nose wasn't able to tell her anymore with certainty.  
  
"Brother?" she whispered.


	10. The Spell

  


  


  


  


  


  


  


  


  


  


  


  


  


  


  


  


  


  


  


  


  


  


  


  


  


  


  


  


  


  


  


  


  


  


  


  


  


  


  


  


  


  


  


  


  


  



	11. Epilogue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Since I'm uploading the final chapter, the fic is automatically regarded as completed, but I still have panels to finish, so it's not. 
> 
> I've made an "The End" panel similar to the first one with the title, so you'll know when it's done ^^

  


  


  


  


  


  


  


  


  


  


  


  


  


  


  


  


  


  


  


  


  


  


  


  


  


  


  


  


  


  


  


  


  


  


  


  


  


  


  


  


  



End file.
